Quotes About Regret

He shouldn't have had to die. Nobody should have to die, Miriamele said slowly. Especially while they're still alive.

Summer's End Cruel orb, my foe, the sun, Glaring upon things I never want to see again The proud, lightning-limbed oaks Of Hekhasor The shimmering blue waters of Silverhome's lake And the endless, endless sky Go away, foul sun! You make me sad.

I . . . should have known . . . that my . . . torment was not yet finished, my guilt not forgiven.

Noel ruhu yok mu sende? diye sordu. Senin kahrolas? ampullerin yüzünden uyuyamad???m dördünce gece ruhumu kaybettim.

Lynn wanted to say she was sorry, but she couldn't seem to speak around the foot in her mouth.

That's the hardest thing to cope with when a young person dies—especially when they've been murdered. The unfulfilled dreams, the unrealized potential. The people close to them—family, friends—thought they had so much time to make up for mistakes, plenty of time down the road to tell that person they loved them. Suddenly that time is gone.

rolling in, even though I knew better.

Ozorne, my precious, where are you? - Rikash Moonsword

rosto cupped laddybuck in one hand and grabed the back of my neck with the other pulling me in and kissing me right on the mouth. i should have punched him but his lips were soft and sweet. i will punch him next time. -beka after she realizes that rosto the piper is the new rouge

I'm sorry, I didn't mean-- To speak of it? asked the K'mir. Diane nodded. You have to, just to bleed off the poison from the memory.

I loved him, just for a minute. I loved him and I grieved for him and my pity was part of the beauty, before the shame began.

Electra Chenti in crimson almost black, a diadem of Grechian influence in her uncombed hair from which unravelled a veil like a golden spider's web, studied her narrow hands and the thirteen rings that gripped her fingers. She cared little for any of them. There was only one she hated-on the marriage finger of her left hand. The scalding room had not tinted her white cheeks at all. Yet she had warned a fraction. To a perverse, bitter joy that her daughter, too, must suffer marriage.

Dear me," Romulan said, "worst of all my execrable failings, to bring you, sir, to such a display.

I thought I wronged you in that garden, spoke out of turn. I came to beg your pardon, but you make very difficult for me.

He suffered no regret, no horror, and yet he suffered something, some incoherent abstract crawling of the flesh and shuddering of the intellect. As if the woman had begun to devour him alive. Or as if he himself, discovering in himself some hidden vault, had opened the door and, let forth monsters.

Let the sky weep for me, Doro. Now I can only weep blood.

It worried him. Like him, she had to be exhausted. She smelled like gasoline; her clothes were torn. She had a small white bandage on her forehead where the EMT had cleaned her cut. Dirt smudged her face, her arms, her legs. He knew she still didn't have any underwear, and for the first time, he felt bad about it. Real bad. He wanted to protect her, make her feel secure, keep her from harm—and all he'd done was lose her underwear and practically get her blown up.

But the jewel you lost was blue.

The only thing people regret is that they didn't live boldy enough, that they didn't invest enough heart, didn't love enough. Nothing else really counts at all.

A drinking man's someone who wants to forget he isn't still young and believing

The future becomes the present, the present the past, and the past turns into ever lasting regret if you don't plan for it!

Is a lifetime long enough to hold the regret that I have for that fantastically aborted but crazily sweet love affair?

Chance, you've gone past something you couldn't afford to go past; your time, your youth, you've passed it. It's all you had and you've had it.

But what was